“—and you’ve never been tempted?”
“No,” Megan said.
“Not by some of the brawny young men Matty employs?”
“No.”
“Not even when you wanted Matty Stavanovich to do your bidding?”
“No!”
“Look at him, Mrs. Vandermeer.” Woodward turned toward his client. “Do you think he’s an attractive man?”
Matty was wearing a crisp white shirt, a striped tie, navy blazer, and gray slacks. As he’d been doing since the start of the trial, he was sitting straight in his chair, looking appropriately concerned.
Megan’s lip curled. “No.”
“Not even the tiniest bit?”
“No!”
Woodward shrugged. “I suppose you wouldn’t have to find him attractive. If you wanted something from him badly enough—”
“Objection!”
“Sustained.”
“No further questions, your honor.”
***
Matty Stavanovich was the sole defense witness. Guided through his story by Woodward’s questions, he claimed that Megan Vandermeer had approached him about the kidnapping during her second visit to the shop. She had it all planned out, he said, from the ransom note, which she made herself, to the point of entry into her home, to the day and time of both the staged abduction and the exchange of the money. Under the plan, Matty was to hold the three million until she contacted him, at which point she would bring her car in for servicing, and her share would be placed in its trunk. He claimed he’d done that, and that his share, $250,000, had been deposited in small amounts in banks in each of six states strewn around the country.
As for the rape, Matty claimed that his accomplice had been the one to use force. He had, himself, never once manhandled Megan. He admitted that he’d had intercourse with her, but swore that it had been a pleasurable experience for them both.
Savannah began her cross-examination that afternoon. Her major objective was to prove Stavanovich a liar. To that end, she produced his past criminal record and questioned him on it at length. Then she asked him about each of the burglaries that had taken place in the state since he had arrived. Though Woodward vigorously objected to each reference and the judge sustained each one, Savannah made her point.
She questioned Matty about the alibi he’d originally given the police. “It was intricately thought out. You had airline tickets, hotel and tour receipts, even photographs. Not that I’d have expected less from a man who has successfully pulled off so many burglaries—”
“Objection,” Woodward called.
“Sustained.”
“You’re a clever man, Mr. Stavanovich. You pride yourself on the brilliance of your thefts—”
“Objection!”
Savannah walked back to the prosecutor’s table to lift up a file folder. “I’m quoting from the report of the court psychiatrist who evaluated the defendant before his 1981 conviction in California. Shall I enter this into evidence?”
“Not necessary, Ms. Smith. The objection is overruled. Continue.”
Savannah dropped the folder on the table and returned to Matty. “Is it fair to say, Mr. Stavanovich, that you are a careful man?”
Matty considered that for a minute. “Yes. I’d say that.”
“Is it, therefore, fair to say that you would never have agreed to collaborate with Mrs. Vandermeer unless you felt that her plan was sound?”
Matty tipped up his head a fraction. “Yes.”
